


The Mysterious Case of the McGradys

by Dovesummer



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Friendship/Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 02:26:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4589508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dovesummer/pseuds/Dovesummer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully investigate strange fires in a small town.  Mulder suspects pyrokinesis.  Scully isn't convinced.  Set sometime early in season 7, mild spoilers for events in prior seasons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago and never posted it. One of the primary reasons for that is because I could never decided on the ending. I've re-written it at least 5 times. 
> 
> Also, this is not beta'd, so I apologize for any errors. 
> 
> Standard disclaimers apply. These are not my characters, etc, etc.

They were standing in the rain. It was cold, she was soaked and he was . . . smiling? It was infuriating. Why were they standing outside in the rain anyway? Couldn’t they have stepped inside? Why didn’t they get in the car? It would at least be better to be dry. 

She had expected his argument or, at least, something like it. This was a familiar dance for them. He proposed something impossible – or at least highly improbable – and she would refute it. 

It wasn’t that she disbelieved him anymore. Just that he always jumped to the most unlikely conclusion. A couple of unexplained fires around a kid and he immediately thought pyrokinesis. Hormones leading a child that had just barely hit puberty to develop strange powers that they couldn’t control. 

And why not? The truth was, after all these years, Scully couldn’t deny it was a possibility. But it was far more likely that the girl was just playing with matches and didn’t want to admit it. Besides, would a pyrokinetic have burned themselves? Shouldn’t they be immune to fire? Their last (and only) pyrokinetic certainly had been, or, at least, he had an uncanny ability to heal after being burned. From what Scully understood, he’d made a miraculous recovery – no sign he’d ever been burned at all – and was now in prison. 

She threw the argument out at him. He still had that damned smile on his face.

“Not necessarily,” he said. “The ability to move and manipulate something with your mind doesn’t necessarily imply you’re immune to it. Most telekinetics are no more immune to knife wounds than you or I. And if they can’t control their ability, who’s to say they wouldn’t impale themselves accidentally?”

“I haven’t heard of anyone impaled by flying knives lately, Mulder,” she grumbled. 

“Lately?” he was teasing her. She ignored it and opened the car door. 

Mulder stood for a moment longer and joined her, stepping into the driver’s seat and turning up the heat. Thank goodness. He turned to look at her. He still had that bizarrely happy look on his face. 

“Mulder, I have to ask. What exactly do you find so amusing about this situation? We’re wet, we’re cold, or at least I am, and we’re nowhere near to solving this case. If there even is a case. And you’re sitting there smiling at some private joke.”

His grin broadened. “I was just thinking of the first time you stood in the rain yelling at me.”

He reached across the car and tugged playfully at her wet hair. 

“Your hair was longer then, but you were no less aggravating.” His eyes twinkled as he said it. 

Scully was surprised. She thought about that case from time to time, of course. In some vague, intangible way that conversation in the rain had been a turning point for her. It was when she realized that, although she didn’t share Mulder’s theory regarding alien abduction, there was definitely something strange going on. And she wanted to find out what that was. 

Sometimes she wondered when his quest had become her own. She frequently thought about her abduction, her desire to know what had been done to her and to find justice for that act, for what had been taken from her. But the truth was she had been hooked from the very beginning. She may not share most of Mulder’s theories, but she always shared his desire to know, to solve the case, to catch the bad guy. 

And when it became difficult to keep the faith, to keep looking, she stayed for him. He’d quickly become more than a partner to her. He was her best friend. He was more than that. He was the person she most enjoyed spending time with, even if they did bicker like an old married couple sometimes. She’d shared more dinners with him than with anyone she’d ever dated. She loved him.

She hadn’t realized she was falling in love with him until it had already happened. She’d never imagined being in love with the man sitting next to her. She’d enjoyed his company, certainly. Thought he was brilliant, if eccentric. But he was also impetuous, irascible and incredibly single-minded. Less so lately, though. He’d been somehow calmer, more grounded since his rescue from the facility where he was being held and Diana’s death. He was still passionate, still had his quest. He still wanted to find his sister. But it seemed to Scully almost as though he’d let go of his guilt. He seemed lighter; unburdened.

“You ok over there Scully?” 

“Huh? Oh. Yes, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“About the case?” 

“No. Mulder, are you happy?”

Another time he might have skirted the answer. But he didn’t. He kept his eyes on the road and said quietly, but definitively, “Yes.” 

He reached out and took her hand. “I have the work. I have you.” 

She squeezed his hand. He looked at her intently and for a moment she thought he was about to say something. Then his eyes shifted quickly back to the road. He cleared his throat. 

“So, I was saying earlier while you weren’t listening to me that we should go back to the motel, dry off and hit the diner next door for dinner.” 

It was always pizza or diners. If she got to eat at all. Mulder had a tendency to forget about petty human needs, like food or sleep. She was looking forward to getting dry, though, and at least they would be eating. 

“That sounds fine,” she said.


	2. Chapter 2

The diner was surprisingly good. Mulder looked at her inquisitively when she ordered a burger and fries. He’d never let her live down that bee pollen kick. But she didn’t care; she was starving.

He was quiet during dinner. He kept looking at her thoughtfully and it was starting to drive Scully crazy. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her breath catch uncomfortably in her throat.

Finally she broke the silence. With something she knew he wasn’t going to like. “We should probably get a flight out of here tomorrow.”

She was ready for the look of disappointment in his eyes.

“Mulder,” she said gently, “we’re not even sure a crime has been committed here. There have been some strange occurrences, I’ll give you that, but a few small fires in close proximity to a pre-teen girl are not an XFile. The death that drew us out here wasn’t even related.”

“He was burned, though, Scully.”

“Yes, he was. He had a heart attack and fell into his stove.” Scully’s thoughts matched the look on Mulder’s face.

“Yes, it sounds ridiculous. It is ridiculous. But however unlikely, that’s what happened. The burns were on his hands, like he caught himself. They weren’t even serious. It was the heart attack that killed him.”

“But what if the heart attack was brought on by being set on fire?”

Scully sighed. “The evidence does not support anything other than him falling onto the stove and burning himself.”

“Maybe he only thought he was on fire?” Mulder looked at her hopefully. “It’s not unprecedented.”

“And then he fell and actually burned himself? Mulder, you want so badly for this to be an XFile you’re reaching for anything. There’s nothing here and we both know it.”

She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. To her surprise he wrapped his fingers through hers. They were silent for a moment, and she enjoyed the feeling of his warm handing holding hers.

He was studying her intently again and she felt herself flushing under his gaze. She pulled her hand back and picked up another French fry, popping it in her mouth primarily so she had something else to focus her attention on.

He sighed and leaned back in the booth. When he spoke it was subdued.

“Alright Scully. We’ll leave tomorrow. But an afternoon flight, ok? I still think there’s something strange going on here. I want to check some things out in the morning. Talk to the Sheriff again, maybe Brittney’s parents.”

 _I don’t know what you’re hoping to find_ was on the tip of her tongue, but she bit it back. Mulder didn’t make many compromises; the least she could do was accept it when he did.


	3. Chapter 3

Scully awoke to pounding at her door. She looked at the clock: 2:37 AM.

She groaned. She already knew it was Mulder at the door. Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. He was always dragging her out of bed in the middle of the night.

She opened the door and gave him a pointed glare. He was, unsurprisingly, dressed and looking completely awake and alert.

“Get dressed, Scully,” he said, a little too gleefully. “There’s been another fire. And this one’s a big one.”

Scully just nodded. “Five minutes.”

True to her word, she was sliding into the passenger seat of the car five minutes later, feeling nowhere near as fresh and alert as her partner seemed to be.

He handed her a coffee cup.   “It might be love,” he said, smiling. Scully smiled back in spite of herself.

“Thank you.” She took a sip before continuing. It wasn’t great, but it was warm and it had caffeine.

“You sure seem to be thinking a lot about our first year together.” She commented.

Mulder shrugged. “I suppose.” Scully raised an eyebrow and waited for him to continue.

“Part of it’s this case. It makes me think of the only other pyrokinetic we’ve ever encountered. How much I hated fire then and how I hate it slightly less now.” He smiled wanly.

“I guess that’s a good thing,” he mused, “because the McGrady’s house is on fire. It’s been burning for more than 4 hours now.”

“And that’s where we’re headed.” It wasn’t a question. “Mulder, why did you pull me out of bed to go watch a house burn?”

“Not just a house,” he said. “Mr. McGrady. The neighbors called 911 when he ran out of the house on fire. The fire in the house broke out shortly afterwards.”

“Or maybe no one noticed it until afterwards. They were probably distracted by the man on fire in the middle of the street.”

“Possibly,” Mulder chewed on one of his ever-present sunflower seeds.

“Mulder, did you just concede your point?” she smiled teasingly.

“No, not concede, exactly. Just acknowledging that the events could have occurred in a slightly different order.”

Scully looked at him suspiciously.

“Either way, Scully, how do you explain the fact that the fire in the house was small at the time, meaning it was focused, yet Mr. McGrady was on fire?”

“You’re saying he was the source of the house fire?”

Mulder nodded excitedly. “Yes.”

“So what are we talking here, Mulder? Spontaneous human combustion?”

“No, no. I think this is still a case of pyrokinesis.”

“You believe that Brittney McGrady set her father on fire? Mulder, why?”

Mulder shrugged. “That’s what I’m hoping to find out.”


	4. Chapter 4

The fire was still burning but seemed to be under control when they arrived on scene. Scully felt instantly sorry for the McGrady family; it was clear not much of the house was going to be salvageable. 

She surveyed the crowd and saw Brittney standing alone, wrapped in a blanket. There was no sign of the girl’s mother. She was staring raptly at the house and the rapidly diminishing flames. The look on her face was odd, almost exuberant. Scully saw the reflection of the flames dancing in her eyes and for a moment thought that it was more than just a reflection; that the dancing flames in her irises were originating from inside the girl herself. She shook her head slightly, tossing the notion aside. It was early and she needed more coffee. And she’d been working with Mulder for way too long. She smiled at that and looked over at him. He was talking with the sheriff, getting the breakdown from local law enforcement. 

Scully walked over to Brittney. The girl looked up at her and smiled. It was an undeniably creepy smile and sent a shiver down Scully’s spine, for which she immediately scolded herself. This was a child, a girl who was currently watching her house burn down. She had just turned twelve, she probably didn’t even know what to make of it. 

“Are you ok Brittney?” Scully asked. Brittney said nothing, but nodded. 

“Is someone here with you?” Brittney nodded again and pointed to an older woman who was talking to one of the officers onsite. 

“Mrs. Sundy, my neighbor,” she said. Her voice was quiet but steady. “My mom said to stay with her. She went to the hospital.” 

“I’m sorry about your father,” Scully said. 

“He’s not my dad,” Brittney said. “He says he is, but he’s not.”

“He’s not your dad?” Scully asked, surprised. There’d been no indication from either of the McGrady’s that he was Brittney’s stepfather. 

“What are you talking about, Brittney? Of course he’s your father.” The older woman she’d pointed to earlier came up and put a hand on the girl’s shoulder. 

Addressing Scully, she said “I’m sorry. She’s just tired. It’s been a long day.” 

Scully nodded and knelt to look Brittney in the eyes. “Brittney, I know it might be scary or hard to think about, but can you tell me anything about what happened? Before the fire? What was your dad doing?” 

Brittney’s eyes flashed with anger. “I told you, he’s not my dad.” 

Mrs. Sundy started to say something again, but Scully just shook her head. It was best not to fight the girl’s assertion right then. 

“Ok,” she said, “he’s not your dad. But can you tell me what he was doing? Do you remember anything funny or weird happening?”

Brittney crinkled her nose. She shrugged. “He just kept saying it was too hot. It was too hot and his feet hurt. Then he said his feet were burning. Then he ran outside, and someone screamed and mom made me leave the house.” 

“Thank you Brittney,” Scully said gently. “Do you remember anything else?” 

Brittney just shrugged and looked up at Mrs. Sundy. “I want to see mom now,” she said. 

“Not just yet,” Mrs. Sundy said, “but we’ll see her as soon as we can. Right now, let’s get you inside.” She nodded to Scully as the two turned and left. 

Mulder walked up next to her and tapped her lightly on the arm to get her attention. She turned to face him. 

“What did you find out?” she asked. 

“Not much more than we already knew. They believe some sort of accelerant may have been used, but they won’t know for sure until the fire marshal investigates. What’s interesting is that the fire appears to have started in the living room.” 

“There are a lot of electronics in a living room. It could have been a short in any one of them.” 

“It could have been,” he shrugged. Scully cocked an eyebrow at him. Conceding the possibility again? Who was this man?

“But I find it more interesting that Mr. McGrady was standing in that room when he suddenly started screaming and ran out into the street on fire. And the neighbor who saw him swore that she saw flames in the middle of the living room.”

Scully gave him one of her patented looks. “Mulder. She was looking through a window, from the street. And eye-witnesses are notoriously unreliable.” 

Mulder just smiled and looked undaunted. “What did you find out from Brittney?” 

“She said he kept saying it was too hot and that his feet hurt. Then he went running out of the house.” 

“That’s all?” Mulder asked, “She didn’t mention him yelling at her or being upset?”

“Mulder, she didn’t do anything to her father. She didn’t will him to burn. She’s just a little girl.”

Mulder just looked at her. “Scully, we’ve been together for seven years. I can tell you don’t really believe that.” 

“Fine,” she conceded. “I do think there’s something odd about her. But that doesn’t mean I think she set her father on fire using some sort of mental ability brought on by hormones preceding puberty.”

Mulder didn’t respond directly. “She said he was talking about his feet?” he asked. 

“Yes, he said his feet were burning.”

“That’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“How so, Mulder?” 

“It reminds me of the childhood rhyme, ‘Liar, liar, pants on fire.’”

“Pants and feet aren’t exactly the same thing, Mulder.” It seemed contrived, and yet Scully paused. “Although maybe you do have something there.” 

Mulder mockingly put his hand to his chest. “Scully! I think my heart just skipped a beat.” 

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that stole across her lips. 

“Mrs. Sundy – her neighbor – said she was just tired and brushed it off,” Mulder nodded slightly, impatient for her to continue. “But she said Norman McGrady is not her father.”

Mulder looked surprised. “So he’s her stepfather? Neither of the McGrady’s mentioned that when we talked to them yesterday.”

He was quiet for a moment. “We need to talk to Mrs. McGrady. Brittney’s biological father might have something to do with what’s happening here. We need to find him and talk to him.” 

“If we haven’t already,” Scully qualified. “It’s possible she really was tired, Mulder. Or upset with her father for some unspecified reason. She’s been through a traumatic experience. And there was no indication that Norman is anything other than her biological father, and even the neighbor who’s currently looking after her believes that he is.” 

“Still, it’s worth checking out, don’t you think?”


	5. Chapter 5

St. Joseph’s was cold and clinical, even by hospital standards. They found Jessica McGrady in the waiting room, a cold cup of coffee in her hand and a lost look in her eyes. She started when she saw them. 

“Is Brittney ok?” she asked. 

“Your daughter is fine, Mrs. McGrady,” Scully said. The woman was obviously relieved and slumped back into her chair. Brittney resembled her, Scully thought. They had the same eyes. 

“Jessica,” she murmured. “Call me Jessica.” 

“How’s your husband, Jessica?” Mulder asked gently. 

Tears came to her eyes. “Stable, for now,” she said. “But they said he has burns over 85% of his body.” 

Scully cringed. She didn’t know what the doctors had told the woman sitting in front of her, but she knew that with burns like that the prognosis wasn’t good. Jessica didn’t seem to notice her reaction, but Mulder did. He glanced over at her and the look in her eyes confirmed his thoughts. Mr. McGrady probably wasn’t going to pull through. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do without him,” Jessica broke down. She looked up at Scully, fear in her eyes. She did know how bad it was. 

Scully took a seat next to her. To her surprise, the other woman leaned into her and started crying. Scully found herself awkwardly trying to comfort her. 

“I’m sorry, Jessica,” she said. “I know this is a terrible time, but I need to ask you a question.”

Jessica nodded and took a couple deep breathes. 

“Is your husband Brittney’s biological father?” 

Jessica’s eyes widened. “What? Who told you that?”

“Brittney,” Mulder told her. “She said he wasn’t her father.”

“But . . . that’s impossible,” Jessica murmured. “We never told her.” 

“Never told her what, Jessica?” Scully prompted. 

“I met Norman a couple of weeks after leaving Brittney’s father. We’d only been dating a week and a half when I found out I was pregnant. I thought he’d leave me. I expected him to run screaming in the other direction. Instead, he proposed.” She smiled at the memory. 

“Norman can’t have children,” she said softly, looking up at the two agents. “He was so excited when Brittney was born. He’s loved her like his own from the moment he saw her. He’s the only father she’s ever known.” 

“And you never mentioned anything to Brittney?” Scully asked. 

Jessica shook her head. “No. I never told her biological father about her, either. I didn’t want him to have anything to do with her. He was not a good person.”

Mulder caught the implication immediately. “He hit you.” 

Jessica nodded. “He set fire to our bed once. Told me I was going to burn in hell and held my arm over the flames to give me an idea of what it would feel like. That’s when I left and moved here.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. You don’t think – no. It’s impossible.”

“What’s his name, Jessica?” Mulder asked. 

“Robert Allen Grier. As far as I know he’s still in Portland.”

“He didn’t give you any trouble after you left?”

Jessica shook her head. “No, thank God.”

“Thank you, Jessica.” Mulder put his hand over hers. She smiled at him gratefully. 

Mulder stood and ushered Scully out. “Let’s go find Robert Allen Grier.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Mulder.” His voice sounded gravelly on the phone. 

“Robert Allen Grier is a dead end,” Scully said. 

“I’m not so sure about that Scully.”

“No, Mulder. He’s a dead end as in literally dead. He died in a single car crash 2 years ago in Portland.”

“By any chance, did the car catch on fire?” Scully had known that one was coming. 

“No.” Mulder wouldn’t believe it, but she’d expected fire to be involved as well. And she had been as surprised as he sounded when it wasn’t. She wondered if he would ever believe that she was taking his theory seriously – even though she still thought there had to be a more plausible explanation.

“Well, I’ve been talking to some of Brittney’s teachers. She’s been caught twice on the playground talking to an adult male.”

“Let me guess,” Scully said, “she claims it was her father, but it wasn’t Norman McGrady.” 

“Exactly,” Mulder said. 

“Do we have any idea who he is?” she asked. 

“I was hoping for Grier. No one got a great look at the guy. One of Brittney’s teachers, a Mrs. Wilson, was headed over to talk to him when the paper she was holding suddenly caught on fire. She dropped it and put out the fire, and he was gone when she looked up.”

“Could be coincidence, Mulder,” she said, knowing what he was thinking. “There are chemicals that when added to paper can cause it to spontaneously combust.” 

She wasn’t sure how plausible that was either. She couldn’t really remember the chemicals involved or exactly how it worked. It was a trick magicians sometimes used with candles, too, to light them through “magic.” Something on the wick that would light after a set amount of time, or in certain conditions. 

“Scully, do you really think middle schoolers would come up with that kind of trick?” Mulder asked. He had a point. 

“It’s no less plausible than pyrokinesis, Mulder,” she said. And it wasn’t. Neither theory was plausible. 

 

“Scully, you yourself witnessed a pyrokinetic.” Mulder’s response was predictable. After all the things she’d seen, how could she just write it off? But she wasn’t actually writing it off, was she? She was just saying it wasn’t a plausible explanation. Not that it was impossible. She used to believe that, but no longer.

“Mulder, what I witnessed -- ” she cut herself off. It wasn’t worth the argument. She didn’t want to fight with him, and there was something strange going on that they needed to get to the bottom of. 

“Nevermind, Mulder. Let’s just stick to the issue at hand. You said no one got a good look at this guy. Do we have a description at all?” 

“Fine,” Mulder clipped. He sounded surprisingly annoyed. And his annoyance annoyed Scully. Maybe he’d wanted the argument. “There’s not much to go on. Tall guy, over 6 feet. White. Dark hair.”

“Well, aside from the fact that Grier’s dead, that description is nothing like him. According to his driver’s license he was 5’8” and blonde. Unlikely that it’s a family member, either,” Scully mused. “Looks like he only had one brother, both his parents passed away several years ago.”

“Uh, Scully? I’m going to have to call you back.” Just like that the line was dead. And Scully had a familiar heavy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was wrong.


	7. Chapter 7

Scully cursed, not for the first time, the fact that they never seemed to have the foresight to get more than one car. That would have come in really handy. Instead she called a cab and told the driver to step on it. 

As they drove around the bend in the road, Scully could see the flames rising from the top of the elementary school. Where was Mulder? 

Then she saw the crumpled form in the building’s entrance. She leapt out of the cab and ran up the stairs. Mulder was moaning and trying to sit up when she got to him. Scully knelt down next to him. 

“What happened?” she asked, concerned. 

“He was here, Scully. Our mystery man. He held a gun to my head and demanded to know what we’d done with Brittney. Then he hit me with it.” 

Scully looked him over quickly. He had a cut on his forehead but otherwise looked ok. 

“It looks like he also set the school on fire,” she said. “Can you get up? We need to get away from the building.” 

He rose awkwardly to his feet, Scully supporting him as much as she could. He took a few tentative steps and seemed to get his balance back. Scully was looking up at him, trying to make sure his head was ok when he stopped suddenly. She turned to look in front of them. 

“Brittney?” 

The girl was standing in front of them completely, eerily still. There was no one else in the area. Scully wondered how she could possibly have gotten to the school all by herself. She walked toward the girl. 

“How did you get here Brittney? Are you ok?” Brittney turned her head slowly to look at Scully but otherwise didn’t respond. 

“Brittney? What’s wrong?” Scully looked deep into her eyes and saw the reflection of the flame flickering there. The fire in the school was spreading to the front of the building. They really needed to get out of there. But Scully couldn’t seem to pull her eyes away from the girl. She was getting the same eerie feeling she had standing outside of the McGrady house. The feeling that somehow, the flame in the girl’s eyes was no reflection but was coming from inside of her. 

Then, Scully started to feel strange. Her body seemed to be tingling. She felt her heart start to race and her breath coming faster. She was so warm. The fire must be getting closer. She was starting to sweat, even in the cool afternoon air. She wanted to take off her jacket, to cool down, but she couldn’t seem to move. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from Brittney. 

And then, irrationally, she started to panic. This was Brittney’s doing. She was making her hot. She was intentionally causing her core temperature to rise. She was setting her on fire. She tried to scream, to get Brittney to let her go, but she was completely paralyzed. She felt her skin starting to burn. Her body couldn’t take much more of this. She was going to explode. She was going to catch fire and burn away to nothing. Mulder. Where was he? 

Please Mulder, please help me, she thought. 

And suddenly she felt herself flying through the air, landing roughly on her side. The pain of it shocked her and for a second she couldn’t breathe at all. She struggled for a moment, feeling like she was suffocating. Mulder’s concerned face appeared in front of hers. He was saying something, but her ears were ringing. Her body still felt as though it were betraying her. She couldn’t breathe. She was so hot. 

She struggled out of her jacket and found she could move. Her panic began to subside. She took several deep breaths and the ringing in her ears started to diminish. She felt herself cooling down. She was covered in sweat. Her blouse was, quite literally, soaked. 

Mulder had stood up and was yelling at Brittney. Scully noticed, almost unconsciously, that he wouldn’t make eye contact with her. Suddenly Brittney’s mother appeared behind her. She was screaming and crying.

Slowly, Scully’s hearing started coming back. She heard Jessica yelling at her daughter,

“. . . your father! How could you Brittney? How could you?” she was red-faced. 

She needs to calm down. She shouldn’t yell at her daughter like that, Scully thought, but at the same time she felt that was somehow not true. Brittney needed to be held accountable for what she’d done. But what, exactly, had she done? 

Scully found she wasn’t sure. She glanced over at Mulder and decided that he was right. She agreed with him that Brittney was not just a little girl. She was laughing at her mother, Scully noted. 

“He said I was special. That I could do things,” she said. “You never told me I was special.” 

She glared angrily at her mother. 

Suddenly Jessica stilled. Her expression took on a cool, angry look. 

“That doesn’t work on me Brittney,” she said stonily. Brittney started and looked suddenly scared. Scully could have sworn she saw the little girl holding a fireball, which she threw at her mother. Her mother held out her hand to catch it and it suddenly disappeared. 

She must have hit her head when she hit the ground. Why had Mulder tackled her like that? The edges of her world were starting to become fuzzy. Just when she thought she was starting to feel better. She realized, suddenly, that she was probably going to pass out. She clung to consciousness with all her might. 

Deep breaths, she told herself. Calm down. Don’t pass out. 

Jessica looked destroyed. “I’ve failed her,” she said. 

The next several minutes were hazy. Mulder was trying to get her up and she was running, moving her legs without really thinking about it, with Mulder half dragging, half carrying her to a ditch on the other side of the road. An explosion she barely noticed. And then, nothing.


	8. Chapter 8

Scully came to in the hospital. She groaned. She vaguely registered someone standing up and then Mulder’s face appeared above her. 

“Hey Scully,” he said, smiling. 

“What happened?” she asked. 

“You were overheating. Plus, you got a pretty good knock. Long story short, you passed out. You were so hot and dehydrated they brought you in to give you fluids.”

“You tackled me,” she said. 

Mulder shrugged apologetically. 

“I had to do something. I kept yelling your name and you wouldn’t respond. I thought I was going to see you burn up right in front of me.” 

He reached out and touched her cheek lightly. “I couldn’t let that happen,” he said softly.

Scully ducked her head, trying to hide the involuntary blush and hoping he didn’t notice. 

“Her eyes, Mulder,” she murmured. 

“Yeah,” Mulder laughed roughly. “Next time you decided to get lost in someone’s eyes you might want to consider someone who isn’t trying to set you on fire.”

She looked up at him and saw something she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes. It was quickly replaced by friendly concern and she wondered if she’d seen it at all. 

“What happened to the school?” she asked. “To Brittney and her mother?”

“Brittney ran into the school right before it exploded. Her mother went after her. They’re not entirely sure what caused the building to blow like that. It could have been any number of things right now.” 

“You think it was Brittney,” Scully said, but without judgment. At this point she was willing to consider that it might actually have been Brittney. 

“Or maybe her mother,” Mulder said. “Although I hate to consider the possibility she would do that to her own daughter. But maybe she thought she didn’t have any other alternative.”

“Her mother,” Scully said, more to herself than him. “It was genetic.” 

“Scully,” Mulder said lightly, surprised. “Are you agreeing with me?”

Scully frowned. “I – Let’s just say I agree with you that she’s no ordinary little girl.”

Mulder sighed. “Was no ordinary little girl. She and her mother didn’t make it out of the school.”

Scully looked at him, considering. He felt guilty about it, she could tell. Like he should have gone after them. Maybe he even meant to, after he moved her. He seemed to know what she was thinking. 

“Jessica,” he said. “She told me to get you away from the building. That the fire department was on the way.”

“I don’t remember that,” Scully said. 

“Well, you were pretty out of it. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get you up and moving.” 

“Last thing I remember Jessica saying is that she’d failed her daughter.”

Mulder nodded. 

“Failed her how, I wonder?” Scully mused.

“Maybe she felt she’d failed to protect her,” Mulder suggested. 

They were silent for a moment. Scully could feel his eyes on her, but she stared at the white wall across the room, lost in thought. 

“Norman McGrady?” she asked.

Mulder shook his head. “Passed away this morning.”

“How sad,” Scully said. “An entire family gone and we still don’t know what happened here.”

Mulder scowled. “Well, I can tell you what the local sheriff’s department is saying. Faulty wiring. In both cases.” 

“This town needs a better electrician,” she laughed. Mulder gave her an odd look and she composed herself. 

“Sorry. Still a little loopy,” she coughed. “Did we ever find out who our mystery man was?” 

“Not for certain,” Mulder said. “But I talked to the neighbor who was watching Brittney. She said it sounded like Jessica McGrady’s cousin. She’d never met him, but had seen him a few times over the years. Not recently, though. She had the impression that he and Jessica had argued about something and weren’t talking.”

“What was he doing here now?” Scully asked.

“My guess is he was here to find out if Brittney took after her mother,” Mulder said. “To awaken and hone that ability in her.”

“But why, Mulder? For what purpose? And why did Brittney say he was her father?” 

Mulder shrugged. “He probably told Brittney he was her father to gain her trust. But maybe it was nothing more nefarious than wanting her to know who she was and what she was capable of. Something her mother didn’t want her to know.”

“Her mother probably just wanted to give her a normal life.”

“But she wasn’t normal. And what’s better in that situation? To address something? Or to ignore it and let it destroy you?” 

Scully looked at him for a moment. It was an interesting thought coming from him, considering his poor relationships with both parents. But then, maybe that was why he felt that way. His parents never wanted to discuss Samantha’s disappearance. They did their best to ignore it, and it tore them apart.


	9. Chapter 9

It had taken some convincing to get the doctors at St Joseph’s to let her go. When she explained that she was also a medical doctor, it hurt more than it helped. But in the end, she was released and was relieved to get back to the hotel – which, unsurprisingly, still had their rooms available.

Mulder was quiet on the ride back, which was fine by Scully. She was worn out from the ordeal. Had it really been just that morning that they stood outside of the McGrady’s house, watching the fire department put out the final flames? 

“Mulder,” she asked, surprising herself with the question, “what do you think is better? To tell someone something even though it might make things difficult or to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist?”

He shrugged. “Maybe in some situations there is no good decision.”

They approached Scully’s room and Mulder hesitated at the door. She looked back at him, surprised. She’d fully expected him to follow her in. There was paperwork to be done; they had to decide what exactly was going in their report. Which, considering the fact that Scully still wasn’t entirely certain what had happened, could be quite interesting. 

“Should we decide what’s going in our report?” Scully asked. “I admit in this situation I’m at a bit of a loss.”

Mulder leaned against the doorframe. “I can handle it if you’re tired.” 

Scully looked at him, considering. There was something else bothering him. 

“Mulder, I know it’s frustrating. To come across people like this, who have something you see as a gift, something you desperately want proof of, and they don’t want it or want to hide it.”

He smiled wanly. “That’s true. But I was thinking more about your question. About whether you tell someone something even though it might change things or you ignore it.”

Scully squirmed inwardly. It was a loaded question. She’d known that when she brought it up again, and she found herself wondering why she had. 

“I never meant to intrude on your thoughts,” he said. “But my illness – I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t shut out anyone’s thoughts, even when I wanted to.”

Scully abruptly sat down on the bed. Mulder seemed to realize he was still standing in the door of her room. He stepped inside and closed it, sitting down next to her. 

“What I’m trying to say is that I know how far you were willing to go for me. How far you did go. You got me through that situation. The illness, the tests they did at that facility – all of it. Knowing that you were there for me and how much you cared. You helped me survive it.”

“Mulder,” Scully looked down at the bedspread, not sure what to say. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it to her, but there was something different in the words this time that made them feel stronger, more important. He knew how she felt about him, she realized, flushing with embarrassment. 

He reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her face. 

“Scully,” he trailed off and hung his head for a moment, his hand dropping to the bed. He sighed, not looking at her and started to get up. 

“Wait,” she said, putting her hand on his arm. “I just need time. I --”

It sounded like a poor excuse, even to her own ears. How much time did she really need? 

But Mulder was smiling at her. He took her hand and leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. 

“I know,” he said. He laughed, although not unkindly. “I love you. Good night.” 

And with that he was gone, leaving Scully alone with her thoughts.


End file.
